Through Thick and Thin
by sickficssam
Summary: Dean is having a temper tantrum and drives off, leaving Sam to fend for himself. Sam finds out who really is there for him. Sick!Sam, Moody/Guilty/Emotional!Dean NO DEATH! We're all good!


Sam didn't know what to do. Dean had just lost it and had driven off. He wouldn't answer his cell, not even to Bobby. Sam couldn't understand or even remember what he had done wrong. He didn't even have a bad feeling, like deep down, he knew he'd upset his brother. Nothing. Sam hauled himself up from the cold pavement outside a 24hour store and started heading for Bobby's. Bobby was on his way to get him so Sam decided to get a head start and meet him on the road.

It was a pretty cold night and Sam hadn't realised it. He tied his coat right up to his chin and turned the collar up against the wind at the back of his neck. Before he knew it, his eyes were streaming, and even he didn't know was it from the cold or his brother's outbreak. Sam let the tears fall and for a minute, couldn't see where he was going. He stood still at the side of the road to wipe his eyes but he didn't get that far.

'Hey! Hey, come on! Wake up!' Sam didn't recognise the voice, just knew that he was hurt. He opened his eyes and tried to move. He was vaguely aware of his phone buzzing in his pocket and wondered if it was Dean. 'Bit late now' he thought to himself. He heard his phone click and go to voicemail. It wasn't Dean, it was Bobby. He sounded mad. Sam didn't understand why he would be, he hadn't done anything wrong. Why was everyone mad with him? There was a guy leaning over him, wearing a helmet. He was shaking Sam's shoulder and if he didn't stop, he was going to get beat up worse that Sam ever was. 'Hey, lay off, buddy!' Sam growled with all of the venom he could muster up. He didn't sound very threatening, but the helmet guy lay off all the same. 'Well, sorry. I hit you with my bike, I wanted to make sure that you were ok. I've called an ambulance.' 'Yeah, thanks. I'm ok. I'll wait here, you can go ahead. I'll be fine.' 'Oh, cool. Thanks, man. Well, take care, yeah?'

Sam sat at the side of the road, head in his hands. Bobby still insisted on calling him. After what seemed like a lifetime of his cell buzzing, he answered in the sharpest voice he could possible achieve. Bobby sounded taken aback. 'I was just coming to pick you up, Sam. Jeez, sorry for caring, kiddo. Will I just leave you?' 'No, I'm sorry, Bobby. I started waking ahead to meet you on the road. I got hit by something. I think I'm ok, I'm waiting on an ambulance, but it's not showing. Could you bring me to the hospital?' 'You boys. You just get worse and worse. Where are you? Are you sure you're alright? Should I bring you in the car or call another ambulance?' 'I'm sitting pretty near a crossroads, there are a lot of signposts. I'll be fine in the car, Bobby, just hurry up.' 'I think I know where you are. Just sit tight.'

'Dean, stop being an asshole! He's insisting that he's fine, but he sounds rough. I'm on my way to get him now, just be at the hospital or I'm coming to get you, and that's a threat, Winchester.' The line went quiet. Even Bobby didn't know what was wrong with Dean, but right now, his concern was Sam. He reached the crossroads and caught Sam's outline in his headlights about 50meters out. He looked to be passed out. Bobby pulled up next to him and opened the back door his car to get him in easier when it came to it. Sam was passed out, as Bobby suspected, but his legs and right hip looked to be broken and he'd lost a lot of blood from a wound on the front right of his head. Bobby struggled to carry him all the way to the car, glad he'd already opened the door. He sat Sam in the backseat and took off like a shot for the nearest hospital and hoped, for Dean's sake, that he was there.

When Bobby lifted him out, the backseat of his car was swimming in blood, and Sam looked paler than earlier. Bobby's heart raced as he hauled Sam across the seats and propped him up, his battered arm wrapped around Bobby's neck and shoulders. As he struggled to get Sam across he car park to the front entrance, he looked around for that damn Impala. Sam collapsed further over to one side as Bobby tried to hurry. When they got to the door and finally into the hospital, the receptionist stayed calm, telling Bobby to stay just where he was with Sam until they found him a trolley. Bobby was sweating hard and he hoped that that would be soon, not only to see Sam in safe hands, so that he could go and throttle to other one.

A doctor emerged from a corridor with a trolley and looked more concerned at Sam's state than Bobby thought he would. He followed the trolley with Sam on it along with three doctors and about five nurses. They were making more of a fuss than Bobby was expecting, making him feel physically sick. As the doctors started hooking Sam up to drips and machines, Bobby ran out the corridor and threw up in the first waste basket he could find. He pulled out his phone and he was in the perfect mood for putting Dean right back in his place. Who was he to leave Sam all alone? He would be sorry when he heard how sick Sam really was and Bobby hoped it would wake him up to the whole idea of family, sticking with them, thick and thin. And it went to voicemail. Being in a waiting room, Bobby was reluctant to make a scene. Being in an ER waiting room, Bobby couldn't give two hoots what kind of raucous he kicked up. He screamed down the phone, damning Dean to hell and plenty more.

Bobby hadn't even gotten back to Sam when his cell buzzed in his jeans pocket. 'That bad, huh?' Dean sounded snuffly. Teary, almost. 'Yeah, that bad, you haughty son-of-a-bitch. He could be dying, Dean, and I don't know because you're holding me up on the phone as opposed to actually being with him. Now hurry up and get over here, you dick.'

Bobby paced the corridor until a doctor emerged out of Sam's room to talk to him. He was sweating, which Bobby hoped was a good thing. 'He's...better. He's not going to die tonight. Tomorrow's another story. He has severe internal organ damage. His ribs have damaged his lungs, his kidneys took a beating and under the head wound, his skull is shattered, so brain damage is very likely as well as everything else. We're going to send him for scans immediately. Do you have any objections to that?' 'Just the one. Not immediately. His brother's on his way, I'm sure he wants to see his as soon as he can. I promise he won't be five minutes, if he's not in the building already.' 'Would Sam's brother be about 6', wearing a leather jacket?' 'Yeah, why?' 'Behind you, Mister Singer. He's here. But five minutes, no more.'

Dean was sheet-white, smelling of alcohol and depression. He saw Bobby and some kind of relief swept over his face. Bobby almost pitied him, knowing what he was about to go through. 'Bobby...' Dean broke into tears and fell into Bobby, hugging him tightly. 'What the hell is wrong with me? Where is he? In here?' 'Yeah, just in there. He's pretty sick, Dean. I haven't seen him yet, either. Well, not hooked up to god knows what in a hospital bed, anyway. But the doctor doesn't sound too optimistic.' 'You're kidding, right? You're doing his to show me that I'm an asshole, and to teach me a lesson?' 'You are an asshole, and you are learning a lesson, but no, I'm not kidding. Together, ok?' 'God, Bobby...' 'Come on, Dean. I'll open the door.'

Sam looked worse than even Bobby was expecting. He was even paler than earlier and even looked small surrounded by machines that, according to the doctor, were keeping him alive. Dean sobbed and dropped to his knees by Sam's side, trying to hold his hand which was encased in a cast twice the size of his actual arm. Dean settled for placing his palm on his brother's chest. He apologised over and over, promising him the world if he would just wake up. When Dean stopped begging, Sam didn't wake up. Machines didn't beep quickly or slowly, keeping the same steady pace. No alarms went off, or doctors came rushing in. He just stayed the same. 'Selfish, much?' Dean muttered. Bobby almost sniggered, standing by Sam's head on the other side of his bed, pushing his hair out of his face. A nurse came in to chase them so that they could take Sam for tests. One of the doctors told Dean and Bobby to stay on the room, that Sam wouldn't be too long. Once he was wheeled out of the room and silence fell, neither Dean nor Bobby knew what to say. Bobby wanted to scream and shout at him and tell him he was an idiot. Dean wanted to sob and cry and beg for forgiveness.

'Just don't talk about the weather, boy', Bobby eventually said, breaking the silence. 'Bobby, what if he dies? What the hell am I to do with myself then?' 'He won't die. I don't care if a have to buy him a set of kidneys off eBay and new lungs on the Black Market.' Dean almost giggled and then what Bobby said struck him. 'He needs new organs? Well, I'm his brother, I can give him mine, can't I?' 'Well not all of them, idjit. You kinda need them yourself.' 'Well, what can I do for him? I've never felt so useless in my whole life.' 'You're not useless, Dean. If Sam woke up and you weren't here for him, now that'd kill him. You're doing everything you can by just being here.' 'You can give kidneys, right?' 'Kidney. Just one. And the way the doc was talking, he needs two. ' 'What is the actual point of me?' 'Just you wait till he comes to, Dean. You'll be glad that you're here.'

Sam was wheeled back in two hours later, less pale, but still tiny-looking, which was a task for Sam. The doctors told Bobby and Dean that he could wake up in the next hour, and if they needed anything to ask a nurse, just in case.

Three and a half hours later, Sam came around to Bobby and his brother sleeping with their backs to the wall, leaning on each other at the bottom of his bed. He struggled to get a breathing mask off of his face and when he did, he called out for Dean. He woke with a start and only after apologising to Sam about twenty times, one after the other, Sam told him maybe that it was time to wake Bobby. He smiled brightly when Dean shook his shoulder and woke him up. He hauled himself up off the floor and walked to Sam's bedside. 'Thanks, Bobby. Really. I thought I was fine, but obviously, I'd be dead if it weren't for you.' Dean almost lost it at this, realising that if Bobby wasn't around, his brother'd be dead and it'd be his own fault. Sam hadn't even done anything. Dean was just mad about other things and he took it out on his little brother. 'So, how bad? You wouldn't both be sleeping on a hospital floor if I was fine.' 'Hey! I resent that, Sam! A, yes we would be sleeping on the floor if you were fine, and you know that. B, and shut up Dean, I'm telling him the truth, not great.' 'How not great?' 'Pretty not great. You're gonna need organ transplants. Lungs and kidneys.' 'Will I get them? There's a waiting list, isn't there?' 'Well, you'll be on top of it. You're not gonna last too long without them.'

'Okay, Sam. We need you and your next-of-kin to sign this, and then we can get started.' Sam took the pen and paperwork graciously but Dean was uncertain. 'What the hell is that? And why are you signing it?' 'Its called a waiver, Dean. Saying that I know the risks, so if I die, you can't sue the hospital.' 'Damn right, I'll sue the hospital if you die. I might skip the suing part and just go on an all-out murder spree.' 'Dean, might as well risk dying and have a chance at getting better than not going for it and definitely dying.' 'Stop saying that...that 'D' word...' 'Jeez, I didn't, did I?' 'Nah, nah, not that one, the other one.' 'Get over yourself, Dean. I'll be fine. Now sign your name - real name - and I'll see you on the other side.' 'Stop being so perky. You're about to have life-endangering surgery, act a little depressed.'

'Surgery went good. Not great, a few bleeds, nothing too serious. He should come around pretty soon. Call on a nurse when he does, he'll need medication as soon as he wakes up.' 'Well, thanks, doc. I'll do that. Anything else?' 'No, that's about it. But if you have anymore questions a nurse should have more than enough knowledge to answer any questions.' 'Again, thank you, doctor.' Bobby turned on his heel and returned to Sam and Dean. 'We have to call on a nurse when he wakes up, which I'm sure you'll be more than happy to do, especially if the right one comes around the corner.' 'Bobby, give me some credit! My little brother almost died! I'm not perving on the nurses! Though there is one...I mean, wow. Blonde hair, brown eyes...' He trailed off when he saw Bobby's reaction. 'Idjit.' They sat in silence, looking around the room for about forty minutes before Sam woke up. He was groggy, but said that he felt a hundred times better, which relieved both Dean and Bobby. 'Weird thinking that I have some poor bastard's organs. Could've been me.' 'Isn't that the idea? Yours were pretty useless. If you couldn't use them, how would anyone else? Idjit.' Dean returned, not with his blonde nurse, but with another one, but he still looked happy with himself. 'Brought you a little treat, Sammy. A little eye-candy never hurt anyone, eh Bobby?' The pretty nurse laughed and checked over Sam. When she was happy he was ok, she administered his medication and left. Dean looked a little disappointed when she left, and perked right back up when he saw Sam sitting up in bed, wide awake at last.

'Well, that was a chapter I'd rather forget. Seriously, though, you sure you're fine?' 'Dean, for the last time, I'm fine. But can I ask you something?' 'Well, that depends. If that something is to do with something more complicated than pie, I'm out.' 'I'm guessing you mean the baked kind, right?' Sam sighed. 'Why did you leave me that night? I mean, I don't think I'm mad, but it was gonna come up sooner or later, right?' 'Right. Sammy, I've never felt so bad about anything in my entire life. Honestly. I wasn't mad at you. I was mad with other things. I was sick of hunting, sick of our lives. I just needed some time by myself. I was thinking about coming to get you when Bobby called. But when that happened, I was feeling so sorry for myself, I didn't move my ass until Bobby left me an voice message telling me that you were practically dying. I felt so bad, I called him back right after I stopped crying. I'm honestly, truly sorry Sam. I promise to never leave you ever again, no matter now mad I am. I'll make sure that you're safe from now on, every minute of every day, Sam. I'm sorry.' Dean had tears sparkling in his eyes, but he didn't let them fall. Sam hugged him tightly. Well, as tight as he could manage, and promised that it was ok. Finally, they were both safe, and more importantly, together.


End file.
